


Fading Embers

by StrawberrieKisses



Category: SHINee
Genre: Angst, Far Future, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrieKisses/pseuds/StrawberrieKisses
Summary: It's been 35 years since they were last on stage as a group.A year after SHINee debuted, Minho had the wounderful idea of creating a timecapsule for them. Each member was given an envelope to fill with a letter written to each of the other four, a copy of a photo of their choice, and a prized possesion. The timecapsule was hidden in Minho's childhood closet (under a loose floorboard to be exact). When Minho goes back home after his fathers death, he stumbles upon the old time capsule. Years upon years of idol work had blurred all of his memories into one, and he had almost completely forgotten about the capsules existence. Perhaps now was the best time to open it.a/n: This is angst (and it probably has a lot of grammatical mistakes/overall bad writing) I have been a SHINee stan since 2009. Their music helped me through a lot of hard times; I am forever thankful to have been a part of the SHINee World. This is my attempt at angst and dealing with my own feelings. It goes without saying, but- this is entirely fictional.Also, they are all aged late 50's mid 60's here.(and if you like it plz tell me I'm very self conscious.)





	1. 1

Minho walked into his childhood home with nostalgia dragging heavy on his weary shoulders. His mother was coping with his fathers passing loads better than he thought she would have. His father had been deteriorating in health for over a decade, and the last year had seemed very bleak. Everyone knew his fathers end was imminent, but seeing him take his last breaths still cut through the families heart. Minho had not done his best to be emotionally there for his family, but all of his family knew he loved them. His father was a good man and he had lived a fulfilling, somewhat humble, life. It brought Minho comfort to know that his father left this world without regrets. 

He loosened the tie to his black suit and ran his hands through his hair. It had been a long week. He received a call to head over to the countryside where his parents lived late last Thursday night, it was his mother who had called and spoke with a tired, sad voice.

"It's time, you should come home, sweety."

Minho did not need to ask questions to know what she meant. He shot up from his bed and apologized to his wife for the sudden commotion before putting on his shoes and making the three hour drive to his parents home to say his final goodbyes to his father without her. The couple had discussed what they would do in the event that a family emergency happened, and it was deemed that, whoever's family was in trouble, only the person who had blood ties would leave. Minho hadn't even thought to brush his teeth or change out of his pajamas before he got into his car. 

The ride to his small home town hospital was therapeutic. Minho was panicking, but he supposed he always knew he would need some time to think of what his last words to his father would be like. Being the ever vigilant and emotionally charged man that Minho is, he let out the worst of his cries alone in his car as he raced down scarcely populated roads.

His wife, Chanri, was tending to her own aging parents back in Seoul, so she was only present for the funeral before leaving to Seoul again. However, she was always emotionally there for Minho- not like a wife, but like a close friend. She called him every night and reminded him to eat well. She helped with preparing the funeral through the phone. They had a loving relationship, although it's been becoming stale in romance throughout the last few years. Their relationship was no longer that of lovers as much as it was a strong friendship. A divorce was unnecessary, though, because they were comfortable enough in each others presence, and they both thought a divorce would be too lengthy for them at this point in their lives. The couple gave up on the thought of eventually having children decades ago when they had been trying to conceive for over a year and it was discovered that they were both infertile. They mourned their infertility, but the wound had healed and scarred over the years. Minho was a little thankful that they didn't have a child because Chanri was very obviously not meant to be a mother- she was always so emotionally distant. She was kind, but the kindness seemed void of emotion; she was nice because she was taught to be nice- not because she _wanted_ to be nice. It was just them, a caring couple- yet lacking in romance. Minho would be lying if he said he was happy, but at least he wasn't miserable. He was content with existing outside of the spotlight, living with a woman that he had once loved with a passion, and reminising on what once was his life.

He put his elderly mother to bed before saying 'goodnight' to his older brother and walking up the rickety stairs to his childhood room. He hadn't really been in his room since he was 13 years old. He had to move to the company dorms and share with other trainees at a very young age. Everything around him, while familiar, seemed like objects meant to fill an empty void in a futile attempt to resemble childhood emotions. The space left Minho's insides feeling more hollow than the feigned innocence incapsulating the room.

He sat with a grunt on the old twin-sized bed that creaked under his weight. While resting his hands on his knees, he began reminiscing his childhood as he looked over the photos and trophies still lining bedside table and desk _waiting_ to be thought upon. 

Before he became an idol, Minho had dreams of becoming a professional soccer player. He soon gave up on his soccer dreams when he was casted on the street as he made his way to school one fateful morning. He completely winged his audition; he thought there was _no way_ one of the biggest entertainment companies in Korea would accept him, so he didn't stress over it. He went to the audition to be polite to the scout that offered him an audtion time slot. He let out an airy laugh when he remembered singing the national anthem in front of the board of scouts, simply because he hadn't even bothered to prepare a song. However, when he got the callback, he realized that maybe being an idol wouldn't be so bad. 

He gave every moment his all- even when all he wanted to do was to stop and drop to the floor in overwhelming exhaustion. And, while he had his regrets in becoming an idol and losing out on a normal childhood, he was happy in that time. Those late night practices with his fellow groupmates, the ridiculous variety shows that required multiple endless reshoots, meeting fans, _preforming_ , while it took a toll on his body, he couldn't say he lamented his decision to become an idol; he just wished he had taken more breaks so that he could breathe every now and again, even if it was just for a second. He wished he had taken more moments to let everything sink in instead of acting like an unstoppable engine that could never be broken- because _break_ he did. 

There were many moments in his life as an idol that he would much rather forget, as there were moments that he regretted being unable to recall. 

He smiled fondly as he reminisced first meeting each of the boys that he would eventually work with for over a decade. Jonghyun was technically the first member Minho met, but Taemin was the first he spoke to. Taemin was the first trainee he ever met that was younger than him; Minho admits he was initially jealous of the boy, but, shortly after meeting, he loved the boy as his own younger brother and he would have done anything for Taemin. _Taemin was special._

Come to think of it, _all of the members met because of **Taemin**._

When Minho first met Kibum, he was frightened- the boy was only a few months older than him, but he never let Minho forget his seniority. In all honesty, in the beginning, he and Kibum were not friends by choice. They only associated together because of their desire to be proper 'hyungs' to Taemin. Minho and Kibum fought a lot, and for silly reasons, but they were still friends at the end of the day. Kibum was caring (if not sometimes overbearing) and Minho opened up to him after a few months of training together. Kibum just couldn't understand why Minho was training to be a singer when all he seemed to care about was sports. Kibum was intimidated, and Minho knew it. Kibum didn't want friends because he was a trainee that barley scraped by in his audition, and his fellow trainees were his next opponents. Kibum worked so hard to be a singer, a dancer, a pretty face that sold anything and everything associated to him, as did _everyone_ else surrounding them. Minho seemed to get everything so easily simply because he was charismatic and already had a pretty face, so Kibum couldn't like Minho even if he wanted to. 

Then he met Jonhyun, and he was a more than just a little scared. Jonghyun had shown Minho and another boy around the practice rooms on his first day (apparently he did that for every new trainee), but other than being a quick tour guide, Jonghyun was rather reserved and didn't speak unless spoken to. The other boy that moved into the dorms the same day as Minho never debuted, and Minho lamented that he could barley recall the guys face- let alone his name. Once the quick introduction to the next two years was finished, Minho bowed and said his thank-you's before Jonghyun left to let Minho unpack his stuff. Regardless, Minho heard about Jonghyun within his first week of training- Jonghyun was the singer who _always_ came in second during their weekly vocal evaluations. Jonghyun was hardworking, but he couldn't come out the shadow of a girl who had already debuted in SNSD. Minho avoided Jonghyun a bit. He interact with Jonghyun again until Taemin asked Minho to eat lunch with him in the company cafeteria, and Jonghyun decided to tag along because he was Taemin's friend. During their lunch, Minho immediately regretting not speaking to Jonghyun sooner. Jonghyun had been training a year before Minho, and his wisdom and understanding was perfectly balanced by his silly quirks and occassionally explosive attitude. Jonghyun soon turned into one of Minho's most admirable friends, but he didn't leave the vocal room much, so their relationship, while strong, was under developed.

Jinki was practicing his dancing late one night in early 2007 when Minho met him. Minho went had gone up to the roof to take a breather when he saw Jinki practicing a specific move, sweating and tired-looking, but smiling as he received praise by a voice Minho immediately recognized. It was Taemin. Taemin explained that Jinki would help him with vocal training and Taemin would, in return, help Jinki with his dancing. Minho knew about Jinki, too, because word had gone around that Jinki was the only trainee to have ever gotten a callback on behalf of Lee Sooman himself. Jinki was quite, but he was compassionate and hard working. He was always silently there for Minho, no matter the time or place, and Minho was greatful for that. 

His mind then wandered to early January of 2008, when all five of them were rounded up and told they would debut together. Each of boys had friends that they were closer to besides each other, but they were friendly enough together. No one had any objections to debuting as five. They were all young, though, so the spotlight was on them from the get-go. One mistake, and they could be replaced by older, more experienced, more desperate trainees. 

Then, as if overnight, everything started moving too fast. 

Minho got a haircut, his skin was scraped and cleaned of any imperfections, his practice schedule was increased in time, he met new choreographers and vocal coaches, he went to photoshoots and mock press conferences, he was required to begin learning Japanese, he was even taught how to properly _get out of a car_! His fellow bandmates were treated similarly- except for Jinki. 

Jinki had an unimaginable amount of pressure. No one ever realized just how _young_ all of them were. 

As a matter of fact, Jinki was required to do a tons of more practice than the other members, being as he was the leader and the oldest of the group. Jinki was pushed to loose weight, even though it was very clear that he was trying his best. Minho never mentioned it in all there time together, but he was almost certain Jinki had suffered from an eating disorder for a few years. Jinki had to take speech classes, he had to endure all of his coaches screaming at him as if they were paparazzi on top of the same training that the younger members received and completing his final year of high school. It all seemed too much in Minho's opinion, and he could see it took a toll on all of the members, but the thought of debuting made all of his suffering worth the pain. 

Then, they recored the music video Replay and uploaded it to the internet. Two days later, on May 25th, 2008 they preformed in front of fans for the first time. 

His heart swelled with excitment and nervousness, as did the other members'. Frankly speaking, Minho couldn't remember the actual preformance, he could only remember moments before going up to the stage and the tidal wave of emotions following their performance, when three of the members left to seperate bathrooms in tears. That night no one spoke to each other on the drive back to the group dorm, and they were bombarded by their coaches over every little mistake they made the moment they walked through the door. 

Minho never thought that the song would catch on so well. When he first heard it with the other four, they all thought it was a good start- nothing special, nothing worthy of 'blowing up", but just enough to get them out there. But, "blow up" it did. They released a mini album 2 months later dubbed Love like Oxygen, which also swarmed through Korea. The entire album was released under the title A.Mi.Go. In the month before their debut, no one thought they would rack up all of the rookie music awards that year, but within the next six months it was almost certain they would be one of the biggest names in kpop- that, _they were_.

They preformed all around the world before their youngest member was even allowed to drive. They had millions of fans, they had fame, they had money... they had love. 

It all came at a cost. Jonghyun dropped out of high school and never returned for a diploma, Taemin was bullied to the point he left traditional highschool and ended his studies online. They hardly ever saw their parents. They hardly ever slept let alone had time to meet up with friends. They couldn't eat what they wanted. They couldn't date who they wanted. They couldn't even make a quick trip to the convince store without being attacked by fans and paparazzi. Eventually the celebrity status took a toll on their minds, and Jonghyun couldn't take it.

The thought of Jonghyun made Minho snap out of his thoughts. Jonghyun was supposed to stay in his deepest of memories, to have him come to surface was too hard to handle in a night where he was alone and left to his own devices.

As he walked over to his closet and pushed the sliding doors, the floorboard beneath his foot lifted with his weight. Minho threw his head back and made a sound of annoyance. He didn't want to be a handyman and go around fixing his parents house right at this moment. He sighed and bent down to lift the board to inspect the damages, but a shoebox he found directly under it caught his attention

Minho looked at the box with confusion before it dawned on him. This was their time capsule. 

The time capsule they vowed to open together when the time deemed fitting. 

Minho sat back on the floor, holding the box with both of his hands and staring at it with longing. He couldn't just open it without informing the others. He hadn't spoken to them in decades, he didn't even have their contact information anymore.

Well... Minho supposed now was as good a time as ever to have a reunion.

When the week ended and he said his goodbyes to his older brother and their mother, he returned to his home in Seoul. He removed his shoes as he entered the quite space. His wife was out, as usual, but there was Kimchi in the fridge and fresh bread in the cupboards. He set the old shoebox in his hands down. It was lighter than he recalled it being when he first hid it all those years ago. 

Now, how was he to reach the other three? 

The easiest to contact was Taemin, being as Taemin was still making regular appearances in variety shows and talent contests. Actually speaking to him, however, was difficult. Minho didn't know what to say. 

"Hey Taemin, sorry for leaving all those years ago and then getting married to someone else behind your back. Remember that time we all made a time capsule together? Yea I found it. Also, would you happen to know how to reach the others? 'Cause that would be a big help." 

Actually, that seemed to summarize it pretty well. 

So, Minho called the last variety show a quick search of Taemins latest appearances brought to light. He then asked for Taemin's contact information; he wasn't given it because the staff thought it was some crazed old fan. So, _of course_ , he had to drive out all the way to the recording studio to prove he was the Choi Minho he claimed to be. 

Minho must have the best luck ever because Taemin was just arriving at the studio, too. 

_Crap._

They hadn't spoken to each other in over three decades. 

"Hey! Taemin!" Minho quickly blurted before regretting every decision he had ever made in his life to bring him to this moment. He was not ready. Nope.

Then, Taemin turned around and Minho felt his heart shatter. Taemin looked like a shell of himself, but, to the random outsider, Taemin looked utterly normal- except for his handsome face and attention grabbing aura, of course. Sure, he very obviously had some work done, but it was normal to have procedures to stop the face from looking too aged. Minho could see the insecurity and the pain swimming in his eyes, though. 

"...Minho?" 

Minho pursed his lips and gave a small smile. How ridiculous must he have looked. As man in his early sixties, he hadn't kept up his physique as much as Taemin had. He let his belly grow, his hair whiten, his teeth had grown yellow, his skin had lost it's once boyish glow. 

"What are you doing here, Minho?"


	2. 2

(a/n: I tried to fix some of it!)

"...Minho?"

Minho pursed his lips and gave a small smile. How ridiculous must he have looked. As man in his early sixties, he hadn't kept up his physique as much as Taemin had. He let his belly grow, his hair whiten, his teeth had grown yellow, his skin had long lost it's once boyish glow.

"What are you doing here, Minho?"

Taemin's voice was no longer the fruity, joyful, _warm_ voice Minho remembered. His voice seemed tired beyond its years. Minho was staring for too long- he knew it, but he couldn't divide his attention from Taemin. His face looked older, but not like Minho's did. Taemin's had fillers, it was polished, moisturized, despondent and glazed over in a haze of sorrow and loneliness. His body... _man_ , Minho couldn't even begin to think how much Taemin worked to maintain his body. Taemin was always very lean, years and years of dancing kept his muscles strong but lithe, yet the muscular Taemin in front of him looked nothing like Minho once remembered. 

"I asked you a question." Taemin looked Minho up and down, his tongue made a lump on there it was pressed against the inside of his taut, pale cheek. As if the arrogance oozing from Taemin's demeanor slapped him in the face, Minho snapped out of his culpable thoughts. 

"Hey, Min, I-" 

"Don't call me that." Taemin cut in with an uncharacteristic venom to his tone. Well, it had been over 35 years since Minho had actually taken time to sit down and speak to Taemin, _maybe this was in character for him now_. 

Taemin turned to who Minho could only assume was his assistant. She looked at him like an excited puppy- it was strange to see someone react to Taemin's current expression with happiness and excitement. "Have him wait in my room." He ordered rather monotonously before looking back at Minho with a sigh and stalking out of the parking complex and into the building elevators. 

The assistant in question politely grabbed Minho's attention with a smile and wave of her hand before signaling him to follow. They walked swiftly to an elevator on the opposite side of the one Taemin had taken. The women's sneakers squeaked on the ground of the parking complex; their loud screeches echoed in the lot full of cars yet void of people. Minho relished in the feeling of being escorted to a waiting room. It felt like the old times- except, this time he was alone, he wasn't scheduled to appear in anything, and his knees were starting to ache. 

As they walked into the elevator, he stared at the woman in front of him. His plump back pressed against the back wall of the spacious elevator as she pressed the buttons to their floor. She faced the doors in matter-of-fact stance; she looked like a drill sergeant- a small drill sergeant. She was comfortably dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. She had long brown hair, she was thin, but not scrawny, she looked like she could carry her weight.

"He thinks about you a lot." The woman spoke over her shoulder.

"What?" Minho was once again brought out from his contemplative state. 

"Mr. Lee. He thinks about you a lot. He thinks about all of you." She finally turned to look at Minho. She was young, her face still held onto some of it's baby fat. She was cute. Minho thinks, for a split second, that (had he and Chanri been able to have children) his daughter would have been around her age and, _hopefully_ , would have looked something like her. She smiled sweetly at him. 

"You know who I am?" Minho's stature straightened. He still had an image to uphold, apparently. 

"Of course I do! I only work for one of the best dancers of the century who _also_ happened to belong to one of the most popular pop groups of his time, Mr. Choi Minho." She beamed in pride, "And my mom was a huge fan." She added quickly with a laugh before her smile turned pitiful. "But he's sad- I know he is. He won't tell me the whole story- so I also know part of the reason why he's sad... And I know you are part of the reason he's sad" She looked at him with inquisitive questions swimming in her expression, "...but I won't hold that against you, Mr. Choi." 

The way she looked at Minho, even if it was just for a moment, seemed to bore into his heart. She knew more than she was letting on (that was obvious), but she didn't seem to have malicious intent- Minho could see at least that much.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to respond to that Miss...?" Minho wasn't about to reveal his whole life story to this kid, even if she did seem to have her intentions in their best interest- that interest being _Taemin_. 

"Won. Won Haneul." She crossed her arms in front on her chest before the elevator doors opened. She was judging Minho, she didn't see what Taemin once saw in him- he was just _average_ now. She was very starky, Minho felt strangely thankful that Taemin had someone who carried herself insuch a affable yet unwavering fashion managing him. She seemed well fitting to manage the shy, goofy, helpful Taemin he remembered. 

"Here we are!" She turned bubbly again, snapping her body so that it was facing forward with the spin of her heals. Her shift in mood was giving Minho serious whiplash.

As they walked though the fluorescent white halls lined with posters and modern art pieces, Minho's senses were bombarded with different smells of cosmetic products and burnt hair, the sounds of multiple voices shouting orders, the flashy clothing many of the idols were wearing. It seemed busier than Minho remembered. There were too many cameramen grabbing a quick snack, too many makeup artists, too many managers and assistants, too many young idols- _too much noise._

Minho blindly followed Haneul, all the while maneuvering through the bustling bodies of the young entertainers and their staff preparing for the next shoot. No one seemed to notice him, they were all to focused on their current task at hand. 

They stopped abruptly at the end of the hall where there were two large marble doors. Clearly etched into the looming doors were the characters "Lee Taemin". Haneul scanned one of the many cards around her neck and the doors beeped open. She extended her hands in an ushering manner.

"As soon as you make your way though these doors you'll be in Mr. Lee's waiting room. There's food and refreshments as well as a restroom so make yourself at home. If you don't have any questions I'll take my leave now- I have a lot of work to do!" She grinned before walking away with a skip in her step. As she turned the hall, Minho could hear other's welcome her arrival with high-fives and cheerful greetings. 

Minho entered the room in a timid manner, somehow even more anxious now that he was left alone. His fingers traced the immaculate counter top that served to divide the entrance of the room from the actual sitting space. He'd seen some of the most expensive areas of the world- his own house was over two million US dollars, but this was supposed to be _a waiting room_ , and it looked ten times better than his home. 

Minho really couldn't comprehend the sheer size of the room, let alone the glamorous fixtures inside of it. The walls were all blinding white and in contrast it had different decorations all either black, gold, or grey. The chandelier hanging above him was made of crystal and gold. The seats were squeaky, yet plush, leather. He grew even more uneasy. He was not dressed to be here, he was wearing a comfortable suit that he knew had some unruly wear and tear near his knees. He hadn't planned on actually meeting Taemin today- He didn't even seriously think of what he was supposed to say- he came to the studio on a whim and he thought that, at best, he would have been given Taemin's phone number. 

He sat lightly on a white leather couch near the entrance of the room. He didn't know how long he would be, but, by the looks of it, he probably wasn't seeing Taemin any time soon. The entire time he was waiting his mind was racing with the night before he last spoke to Taemin. He was a real ass, and he knew it- Taemin didn't deserve what he did- _no-one_ deserved what Minho did. He felt nauseous with his guilt. He never dealt with what he had done- he ran away like the coward he has always been.

Minho sat for what felt like hours before he got up and decided to look around. He knew he was snooping but he couldn't help it. He could never control himself when it came to Taemin. He was anxious and looking around would help the time go by _as well on clueing him in on what Taemin was up to nowadays._

He walked down the hall and into the bathroom. Nothing was out of the ordinary, everything was expensive, but it was all lacking in personality. Nothing seemed to hold memories or emotions. The _things_ engulfing the room were just objects to fill the void- nothing inside seemed to bring happiness. 

He then walked to the fridge and took a look inside. It was full of water, protein shakes, and hefty amount of vodka in the bottom self. He grimaced at the memories that flooded his head when he saw the vodka, but, other than staring at the vodka with remorse, nothing made Minho want to look in the refrigerator any longer.

He closed the door and left a lingering hand, he pressed his forehead against the door as he sighed in regret. Once the feeling passed, he proceeded to make his way to a desk where, upon sitting down, he found a notebook. He contemplated for a moment; he really shouldn't look through Taemin's notebook. Whatever Taemin wrote in the notebook was personal. He didn't even know what Taemin _looked_ like until hours ago.

He opened it.

Inside of the notebook there was sloppy handwriting of different idea's and to-do lists. There were some meaningless openings to songs that even Minho knew Taemin was writing simply to fill the pages, there were a few quotes that seemed vaguely familiar. The vast majority of the notebook, however, was contact numbers scattered throughout the pages- though the numbers didn't mean anything to Minho. He was going to close the book then the back pages made a scratching noise. He turned to the back cover of the notebook where he found a picture of all of them together, _happy_ , in their old practice room. 

Minho was set aback. The picture had to be at least 45 years old. He slumped on the desk chair and glossed over all of their faces with trembling fingers, suddenly so emotional that Taemin had held onto this picture and carried it so close to himself. 

He turned it back and saw written there 'family' which was then crossed out repeatedly and water stained. 

"Are you done snooping?" Taemin walked up to Minho and snatched the photo from his hands, holding it protectively behind himself. 

"Taemin I-"

"Why are you here, Minho?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Minho with newfound anger- he was almost trembling.

"I'm sorry for snooping, I just-"

 _"Why are you here?_ " Taemin's voice was louder, more demanding, almost lethal, it cut through Minho's heart like a hot knife. Minho cowered in his place, frozen. He felt like a cornered animal. His fear it almost angered him, he was the older one here, he was supposed to be in control, but he also had no right to attempt to contact Taemin. Minho was in the wrong; he deserved to be yelled at. However, Taemin seemed to notice Minho's discomfort and sighed before backing off and walking to one of his leather seats. 

"If you would let me finish my sentence- I found the time capsule. I'd be nice if all of us got together that way we can open it." Minho stood upright once again; he really needed to stop getting confident- he had no right to be there.

"What time capsule?" Taemin face was now full of aggitated confusion. 

"Ahh, you mean that shoe box we hid in your house to stop you from bitching about us needing to 'remember ourselves'?" He scoffed in annoyance. "That's all you came here for? Nothing else?" He started to flip through a book on his coffee table, uninterested, unwavering in his hostile persona.

"No!... no... I also want to apologize. I know I messed up. I know I shouldn't have left. I know-" Minho's voice wavered. He was exasperated and overflowing with guilt. "I tried to contact you... I just-" 

"Bullshit." Taemin almost whispered. " _ **Bullshit!**_ You didn't try to call, visit, you didn't even ask Jinki or Kibum to ask how I was doing!" His voice was raising in pitch. Minho knew he shouldn't have come. 

"You _slept_ with me, Minho. " Taemin got up with determination in his red eyes as he stalked up to Minho. He put an accusatory finger right in the center of Minho's chest. Tears where lining his eyes and his face was flaming red. 

"You told me you loved me! _And I believed you!_ Then the very next day you just left! No text, no note, no nothing!" He was crying, almost sobbing. 

Minho stepped closer to Taemin, their chests pressed against each other. Taemin began to sob.

Minho grasped Taemin's hand and held it close to his face. Taemin wrenched his hand away, slapping Minho's cheek in the process. Minho's head snapped back with the force of the hit, his nose began to bleed as he held is cheek in pain. The slap left a red mark of the imprint of Taemin's fingers.

" **Don't touch me!** " Taemin's voice was wavering and his breathing was unsteady

Despite his bleeding nose, Minho moved to comfort Taemin. Taemin's frame was trembling with his sobs, but Taemin moved away and kept a protective distance between them. His stance was rigid. His fists were clenched so tightly that the skin turned white. 

"I said get away!" Taemin composed himself rather quickly. He roughly wiped his tear streaked face.

"If you want to contact the others ask Haneul, but the fuck stay away from me you _bastard_." He walked to the entrance of the room, his back was facing Minho.

Minho backed away, his face blotchy and his blood was streaming freely down his face as he held his breath, crying silently.

He wipped the blood away with the back of his sleeve and walked closer to Taemin. "Taemin... Taemin I know I can't say I'm sorry enough... I know that I was wrong in leaving and it's my biggest regret..." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration with his own inability to compose words. His hair as moist with his sweat and left unkempt when he finally found his tongue. " _I don't know what to say!_ " He was suddenly panicking. His mouth was dry and his breathing was uneasy. Taemin was never going to forgive him. 

"I was scared! You know what times were like back then! We couldn't be together!" His hands flailed in attempt to match his emotions to his body movements. "I _hate_ myself for leaving you! I _hate_ myself. You didn't deserve that, okay? I was a coward and I know it! But wasn't lying to when I told you what I felt! I regret leaving you but I _don't_ regret what we did. I don't regret sleeping with you, Taemin." His hands lowered to his sides, clenched tightly in attempt to stop himself from saying anything and shaking his head manically. 

Taemin stood still for a moment, his head hung low, before he opened the door.

"Yea, but I regret it. So now that you got your conscious clear- you can leave now." Taemin spoke mockingly. He waited in the doorway for Minho to take his leave. 

Minho had no choice but to walk out. He kept his head low as he once again walked down the hall. It was empty now, void of any soul. The show recording must have wrapped up. His ears perked when he heard sneakers running up to him.

"Minho- shi, you forgot this!" It was Haneul. She froze when she saw the tears and blood staining Minhos face. He shook her head and pretended not to notice as she handed a scrap of paper to Minho, scribbled on it were two addresses- one titled Kim Kibum and the other Lee Jinki.

Minho plugged his nose with his fingers and made his way into the elevator when he saw Haneul dashing down the hall. Her ponytail flew in the air behind as he hurriedly ran to the elevator; Minho acted quick and held the doors open. Haneul smiled thankfully and handed Minho a card. 

"This's my number- call me if you need anything!" 

The elevator doors closed, and Minho was alone once again.


	3. 3

Minho arrived to his driveway in a lifeless haze; he was unable to remember the car drive to his home. He hadn't even bothered to process the fact that he now had the contact information for Jinki or Kibum. He was utterly drowning in his own in sorrow. Any least thread of hope that he had of reconciliation with Taemin had snapped and disintegrated into nothingness. When he treaded into his home he found his wife sitting on their couch reading a book. She acknowledged Minho's arrival with a nod of her head; her eyes never left the pages she was reading.

"Hey Minho, are you feeling okay? You don't usually go out on your own." She put her book aside to give proper attention to their conversation. She patted the spot next to her to cue Minho to take a seat. When she saw Minho's face, however, her eyes widened in shock and she jumped up from her crease in the couch. 

"What happened?!" she hurried to the bathroom to fetch their first aid kit. She kneeled before Minho and attempted to use a washcloth to cleanse his face. Minho waved her off when she tried to apply instant healing ointment to his injury. He refused to look her in the eyes. She sighed and lowered her hands.

"You saw him, didn't you?" she spoke softly- placing a caring hand on top of Minho's own trembling palms. 

"Y-yeah..." his tears fell freely as he buried his face into his arm. His sobs racked his body as he recalled his encounter with Taemin. 

Chanri patted his back the entire time. She stood at a comfortable distance from Minho, stiff in her stance. Her feet were beginning to ache and the sun was setting when Minho's sobs lightened up. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"How much do you know?" Minho's eyes were bloodshot and his voice was hoarse as he tried to compose himself. 

Chanri sighed, she sat next to Minho and ran her hands through her thinning hair. 

"I know you loved him..." She looked at Minho expectantly, and waited for him to utter the fact that she had discovered long ago.

"Love. I still love him, Chanri." Minho was still refusing to look her in the eyes. Chanri wanted him to look at her, but she wasn't going to force him to love her anymore. 

She looked down at her hands glumly before continuing. 

"I know you love him. I know you guys had a falling out a few weeks before you proposed. I know the others don't speak to you because of said falling out- and that's enough for me to put the peices together."

Minho finally met her eyes. She nodded before continuing. 

"You slept with him." She stared outside the window, where the night life of Seoul was just beginning- her voice was void of any emotion.

"That wasn't it...." Minho looked at the note in his hands. " I had told him we would be together. I told him I would never leave him. _I told him I loved him._ "

"You weren't lying.... at least not on loving him." she got up from the couch with a grunt and made her way into their kitchen. 

"You don't have to spare my feelings, Minho." She chuckled as she filled a glass of water and gulped it down, smacking her lips at the stale taste. " I know you love me, but you don't love me like you love him. You love me like a friend." She shrugged her shoulders and turned from him. " And it's okay. I've made my peace with it... but you haven't." She set the glass down. 

"Now, I'm not going to _help_ you win him back, but I'm not going to stop you. Everyone deserves to be happy, but your specific actions have hindered many peoples happiness. It's up to you to fix it... and you might not be able to fix it in all honesty." 

Minho stood and fidgeted with the ends of the synthetic hair to their artificial helper, a piece of technology they solemn powered on. 

"I know." 

"I can help you with the others, though." She clapped her hands, and the helper automatically flicked to life. She simply ordered 'Lee Jinki, Gwangmyeong, 1989 and Kim Kibum, Daegu, 1992.' before the robot projected split screen a small home somewhere in the countryside and a large loft somewhere where dawn was just approaching. Minho stared at the projection with longing. When Jinki stepped out into the darkness of his side, however, while carrying a small child in his hands, Minho powered off the helper and fan his hands down his face in exasperation. 

"That feels like spying." he made his way to the bathroom to rinse the blood and dried tear stains from his face. 

Chanri leaned against the in the doorway of their shared bathroom; her arms crossed her chest. "What else are you planning to do? Drive there?'

Minho dried his face slowly before turning to her with a determined look to his swollen eyes.

"Yes."

They made their way to their bedroom and prepared for sleep. When they got under the covers, they both stayed stiff on opposite sides of the large bed. The fact that they hadn't bought another mattress was beyond both of them. They hadn't slept together in over a decade. Everything was just easier if it just remained as is. 

Minho stared at the ceiling and, when he believed Chanri had fallen asleep, searched for the directions to Jinki's home. The bright screen hurt his sore eyes, but he cleared his throat and continued his search. He was half way finished with writing the directions down when Chanri abruptly sat up. She clapped her hands and their helper was in their room in a matter of seconds. She looked at Minho's screen before ordering.

"Hannam-shi, 451, 150-010, Lee Jinki." before hitting her head back onto her pillow. The helper handed a chip to Minho a mere second later.

Minho muttered an apology before taking the chip and leaving to his car. He entered the chip and the car beeped to life before driving out of his driveway. Thankfully, the streets were void of cars once again- despite the hoards of young and old people alike bustling into the different buildings. Minho was old fashioned in his insistence on keeping his car. Within an hour, he as in Hannam. He switched off his car when he passed a connivence store and got out to realize he was a mere minutes from Jinki's home. 

He entered the convenience store to look around before returning to his car empty-handed. He sat in his car for the remainder of the night- too embarrassed to make the rest of the journey to Jinki's home and actually face him. 

(a/n: I don't know what I'm doing...) 


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was raising in the horizon, it’s peaceful colors contrasting with Minho’s uneasy thoughts. Minho hadn’t left his car for the entire night. He stared outside into what was left of the countryside. The sea was to his left and the soft waves calmed his nerves even if just slightly. His night was full of sighs and groans. He would be eternally remorse full for the actions he had committed when he was in his early thirties. 

The streets were becoming more lively as the minutes ticked by, many of the people walking by would give strange glances to his car. He was used to the stares-most people no longer had cars, but he also figured people here didn’t have many visitors. It was a nice, humble town- reminding Minho of what his hometown had looked like so many months ago. At sunrise, received a message from his wife asking if he was still speaking to Jinki. Minho didn’t want her to ridicule him for not speaking to Jinki yet. 

An young man came up to Minho’s window and grabbed his attention by knocking on the glass. Minho opened the window halfway. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen one of these!” the man chuckled and patted the roof of the car. “You’re not from here, are you?”

Minho looked around to see if the man had anyone with him. The man was alone and had a large foldable chair in his hands. Minho had heard that, sometimes, people would attack cars because they figured people who still had cars were beggars. The man was alone. 

“No, I’m not.” Minho was about to begin closing the window before the man stepped back. 

“I’m not here to hurt you. I just came to admire this oldie. I usually sit here to fish, so I would like it if you would move. You going anywhere specific?” The man stepped back, giving Minho his space while still being close enough to talk without raising his voice. 

“Yea…” Minho tapped his screen back to life before returning to the conversation. “I need to get to 451 150-010.” He looked up at the man quizzically. 

The man perked up and removed his hat. “What would you need to go there for?” He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.

“It’s the address of an old friend…” Minho began to raise his window again. “Don’t worry about it man, I’m sure I can manage on my own.” Minho began to command the car to move when the man came closer to the window once again. 

The man put his hands up to his chest and spoke up. “That’s my father’s address.” 

Minho stopped in his tracks. He looked over the man- feeling out of character for not recognizing his face in the young man. 

“Lee JInki is your father?” 

“Yes,” The man nodded. He crossed his hands over his chest. “Who are you? My dad would have mentioned something about a visitor coming in.” 

“My name is Choi Minho, I was a co-worker of your dad.” 

“Oh.” The man walked closer to Minho’s car window. “Ohh… you don’t really look like your pictures anymore.” He looked over Minho critically. He pursed his lips before nodding to himself and walking around the car. He pulled the passengers side door open and sat himself down. 

“What are you doing?” Minho looked over to the young man who was currently strapping himself into the seat.

“You need to see my dad. I want to ride in a car.” The man looked over at him, smiling with a shocking resemblance to Jinki before urging him to move. Minho stared at the man before starting the car up and turning to the man as the car moved along the road. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Byungwoo. Lee Byungwoo.” The young man looked around the car in curiosity. 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m 21.” He shrugged and opened his window, sticking his head out with his hair flapping in the wind. “I’ve seen people do this in old movies!” He laughed, “I haven’t been in a car since I was ten years old!”

Minho remained quiet for some moments. Concentrating on the road in front of them and contemplating what he would begin his conversation with. Byungwoo noticed the silence and put his head back into Minho’s car. 

“Where have you been all these years?” He asked. 

“What?” Minho was swept away from his thoughts. 

“Where have you been?” He shrugged. “Uncle Kibum and Uncle Taemin come by pretty often. This is my first time meeting you.” He stared at Minho expectingly, 

“I got married.” 

“So did my dad.” Byungwoo snorted and turned back to the window. “If you don’t want to tell me then that’s fine, but you should probably think of something to say to my dad.” 

Byungwoo perked up a few moments later, reaching over to Minho and patting his knee excitedly. 

“We’re here!” Byungwoo unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his door and stood up, waiting for Minho. 

“What? The tracker say’s we’re still two minutes away.” Minho remained seated and motioned for Byungwoo to get back inside the car. 

“That’s because its counting the time it takes to get into the building and to the floor our house is on,” he rolled his eyes. Minho decided that Byungwoo knew the place better than himself, so he unbuckled his seatbelt and followed along. 

Byungwoo walked happily to the tall building before them and entered an elevator. He hurried Minho in with the wave of his hand as he pressed the button to their floor. 

When Minho finally made it inside the elevator Byungwoo laughed teasingly. “Dad asked me not to look you guys up, but I just had to. Man, you have _really_ let yourself go, Uncle Minho.” He patted Minho’s shoulder’s. Minho didn’t even feel the right to snap at Byungwoo. He was right. Minho was ashamed of what he had become. 

Byungwoo noticed the change in atmosphere and removed his had feeling rude for speaking without thinking. The doors opened as soon as Byungwoo removed his hand from Minho’s shoulder. They were on the top floor, twenty-five stories up. 

Byungwoo walked ahead, going down the long hallway and stoping at the door at the end of the hall. He pressed his hand against the doorknob and the door swung open for them. Minho felt somewhat familiar with Byungwoo; his nerves had forgotten about who he was about to speak with until he stepped into the house. Byungwoo had already removed his shoes and walked around the corner of the home to what Minho assumed to be the kitchen. He could hair faint sizzling and hear water running. Two people were speaking softly to each other but Minho couldn’t make out the words. There was a faint smell of fried rice growing stronger within the room. 

“Hey Byunggie, why are you back so soon? No fish today?” Minho heard a women’s voice.

“Hey mom, I met someone there!” Byungwoo answered cheerfully. 

“Who’d you met?” Minho recognized Jinki’s voice in a heartbeat. HIs ears perked up at the light and slightly airy timbre. Byungwoo didn’t respond as enthusiastically as he first had; Minho couldn’t even hear what he was saying anymore. The voices were again in tones too hushed Minho could not hear them. He removed his shoes and stiffly stood at the entrance of the home. He looked around and saw family pictures strewn around the room. Everything was tasteful and humble. There was a warm feel to everything around him- even the air. Everything in the entrance of the room felt like it belonged; like it had it’s own little piece of life.

Minho heard three different sets of footsteps nearing him and he became rigid in his stance.

“Uncle Minho!” Byungwoo said cheerfully, urging his father to go greet him. Minho turned and faced them, a sad smile on his face. 

“Hey Minho…” Jinki waved and moved forward to shake Minho’s hand. Minho grabbed his hand softly. He was getting emotional. 

“It’s been so long… What brings you here?” He gave Minho a forced smile. He noticed Minho was staring at him with glazed over eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

Minho nodded his head that he was fine even has his eyes were lined with tears. “Y-yes.” He croaked out. 

Minho stood there unmoving when he noticed who he presumed to be Jinki’s wife. 

“You must be Minho!” She came up to them with a large smile on her face. She was a jolly looking woman. Her smile was warm and inviting like that of a mother. “Why don’t you have some breakfast with us?” She crooked her head to the side. Before Minho was able to muster up an answer, he was being tugged along by Byungwoo, who had wrapped an arm around his back, and being led to the kitchen. The room felt like it was engulfing Minho as all of them sat down. Jinki folded his hands over each other and sat across from Minho, ready to begin what he presumed to be a long discussion. 

(a/n: I've noticed I carry a lot of my plot through dialogue and I am trying to fix that.)


End file.
